


JUST TAKE ME ON THE FLOOR

by jean_huh_kirschnickerdoodle



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Crossdressing, Foreskin Play, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Uncircumcised Penis, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 09:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1382596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jean_huh_kirschnickerdoodle/pseuds/jean_huh_kirschnickerdoodle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armin may seem innocent but Jean finds himself taken by the bar's new dancer in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	JUST TAKE ME ON THE FLOOR

**Author's Note:**

> written for the song Take Me On The Floor by the veronicas.
> 
> i, um, i tried?

“Can I get another round?” Jean’s voice was loud, the music louder still, and he wondered if the bartender could even hear him. He was reassured with a grin from the eccentric woman, her unclean brunette hair pulled into a high, messy, ponytail. 

Hanji was one of the few employees of the club that didn’t have a mate who frequented the stage, instead Moblit helped around the stage to protect the performers. Even though she wasn’t the owner, she was the ringleader. And she dressed the part, a tailed coat buttoning under her breasts, a black bra peeking out, and unhidden skin speckled with shimmer powder. Her shorts were more underwear than shorts, her stocking and boots covering most of her skin; they did, however, leave just enough space to show the ‘wings of freedom’ tattoo on her upper thigh. She was long and lean and damn could she pull off sexy despite barely showing any skin.

She never quite seemed to stop moving, her hips switching, and yet managing not to spill a single drop as she poured Jean’s shot. She slammed it down in front of him, winking and downing one of her own. Her nose crinkled in response, a grin spreading across her lips.

“Sweet cheeks, this one’s on the house.” She jabbed a sparkly thumb toward the crowd, “You bring us enough screaming girls, and boys, on your show nights that I think you deserve a free shot.” She grinned and winked before he could protest, pushing the drink toward him.

Jean gave a small nod before throwing back the shot, the liquid burning as it slid down to pool heat in his stomach. He crinkled his nose as she had, shaking head sharply once before a grin spread on his face. “Always appreciated, dear ringleader, but I think the guys,” He tilted his head in their direction, the light catching the studs in his eyebrow and lip, “won’t be too thrilled with me not bringing them their drinks.”

She grinned at him over her glasses. “Oh, you can reassure those boys that they’ll have their drinks before show time.” She winked and waved a hand at a man that Jean would describe as surprisingly tall, or at least he would if it wasn’t for the fact that his drummer was about the same height. Though, Hanji’s fellow bartender had well-maintained scruff, more muscle than their drummer, and his hair managed to persistently fall into his eyes, not that it seemed to bother him. “Mike’ll bring them over.”

Jean nodded as she turned to walk away, pushing his way through the loud, sweaty crowd over to his table. He had no idea how anyone managed to hear anything in this place, or how their band appealed to the crowd that was now dancing, if you could call it that, against one another to music with too much bass in a room too dark to see much of anything unless one of the neon streams of light happened upon your target.

Pushing the foot from his chair, he took his seat next to his roommate and guitarist, Eren. He was a douchebag and the two of them fought… a lot. But when it came to it, Eren was his bro, even if it drove him crazy how girls flocked to that mess of dark brown hair and those (admittedly beautiful) Caribbean green eyes. Of course, Jean and the rest of the band couldn’t quite resist laughing as the girls did flock to Eren, considering the shit was rather partial to dick. Particularly the dick of a certain pipsqueak with a shitty ass attitude, but Jean couldn’t deny his bang-able body.

“Man, where’s our drinks!?” Connie yelled over the music, his dark brown hair buzzed almost down to nothing, a brunette girl sitting in his lap munching on a bowl of pretzels she had brought with her from behind the bar, she also happened to be their bassist. Sasha and Connie had been together for as long as anyone could remember, no one quite sure when they went from being best spuds to more. And no one really cared, they were still pulling pranks and she still ate more food than any girl he knew.

“Man, maybe your girlfriend already drank ‘em!” Jean grinned, gesturing toward Sasha as she stuffed another pretzel into her mouth.

“ey! I ‘i’ wo’!” Her words weren’t exactly intelligible, though it was obvious what she said before she coughed, inhaling her pretzel in her objections. Connie patted her back, the rest of them unable to stop their laughter.

“Hanji said Mike would bring them over. Anyway, where’s Bert…” His words trailed off as he looked over toward the bar. Jean couldn’t help his eyes being drawn to a pair of white satin panties splayed over an undeniably delicious ass, thighs mostly covered by white stocking, held up by black straps that wound around his, for it was definitely a he, thighs and up around his shirtless torso. The pale skin, taut over his muscles, was spot-dusted with the same shimmer powder that Hanji had on her chest.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of him, not even listening to his friends anymore as he watched the blond hair be pulled over his shoulder as he sat on one of the stools. Golden eyes landed on a small pair of wings on the back of his neck. It was the same blue and white wings as Hanji had on her thigh, and he had recalled Eren’s boyfriend to have a large pair on his back. Seemed to be something they had all gotten. The blond smiled at a tan, freckled face woman with severe eyes. Ymir, the owner of the bar, grabbed a pair of thigh-high boots  and handed them over to the blond, who set to work tugging them on and hooking the above-the-knee piece to the straps that ran over his body.

Just as he had finished, he was joined by four others. He recognized the harsh undercut and built body of Levi almost immediately, hell it had been Eren’s “connection” with him that had gotten them their first gig here. He matched the blond perfectly, though everything he wore was black opposing the blond’s white. A small, red-headed girl that stood a couple inches shorter Levi, with the wings tattooed just above her ass, stuck around only long enough to switch out her shoes before running off to find Auruo, who must’ve been working the floors. Petra, Jean remembered was her name, had been around almost as long as Hanji and had actually gotten Levi his interview.

There was another blonde, who Jean could’ve sworn was the female version of the new guy. Her hair was a little longer and she had it pulled back and teased up, her bangs swiping sideways over her face. She climbed onto the bar, sitting on her knees as she leaned down to kiss Ymir full on the lips. It was no small secret that they had wed less than a year ago, not long after Historia had gotten the wings tattooed above her right hipbone. Jean averted his eyes, knowing Ymir would kick his ass if she saw, as the freckled woman’s fingers slid under Historia’s black bra strap.

The fifth dancer, for they were dancers and not strippers, was Nanaba. She wore a white outfit to match Petra’s, her tattoo on the inside of her wrist. She tugged on her boots and Jean was careful not to get caught looking. The first time he had met her, he had seen her bulge and mistakenly called her a he; Historia quite vehemently set him straight, and for such a little thing the girl had a mouth on her. Jean had apologized profusely, but it left him feeling like the biggest ass in the world despite it being a mistake he had never made again. Even Mike, Nana’s boyfriend, had told him on several occasions to forget about it.

“Jean~? You better not be ignoring me to check out my boyfriend’s ass, Jean.”

Jean, startled, turned toward Eren, instinctively running his hands back through his brunette undercut, an awkward grin on his face. “It wasn’t Levi’s ass I was checking out.” His golden hawk eyes avoided Eren, who was grinning like an ass at him, and managed to find the tall, ever-nervous Bertholdt standing near the stage with a bulky blond. Reiner, who helped Moblit and Mikasa, Eren’s sister, watch the stage and protect the “girls” even if they weren’t all girls.  Just as he was watching him, Bert was shooed from the stage and back to his chair. The show was going to begin soon.

“Oh? Is that so?” Eren leaned over the table and looked around Mike, who was now dropping off their drinks. “hmm… oh! Oooh!” Eren took his beer and took a swig, leaving Jean as always to wonder why he pretended to like that shit.

“‘Oh’ what?” Jean took his drink, some fruity shit that everyone made fun of him for. Hey, it was colorful and sweet but it tasted a hell of a lot better than the beer Eren was drinking just to feel manly. He rolled his eyes at the concept, knowing that the shit was taking it up the ass every night. How manly could beer make him feel?

Eren titled the mouth of his beer toward the line of performers headed toward the stage. It wasn’t hard for him to figure out, considering everyone knew the others were pretty much off-limits. “The new guy’s name is Armin.”

“Uhm… okay?”

Eren just grinned at him. “Figured you’d want to know what name you should be calling your hand tonight.” The green-eyed shit couldn’t help but laugh, even after Jean’s fist greeted his arm. Eren didn’t continue, turning his eyes toward the stage in anticipation for his boyfriend.

Jean couldn’t deny his own excitement as the lights lowered and the persistent thum of the bass faded, to be replaced by more fitting music as the five took the stage, Armin front and center. Jean couldn’t deny the way his eyes latched onto him, and how those blue eyes seemed to focus back on him. It didn’t matter the way that Historia and Levi climbed to the top of their poles, the way their legs held them aloft, or the way Nana and Petra laid on their backs with open legs and arched backs, hands touching their own bodies.

All that mattered was the blond in the front. Armin, he had to remind himself. The way his hips switched as he walked toward the edge of the stage, the way he lowered his body, running his hands along his thighs to his knees, opening his legs as he rolled his body, the way his body curved as he gracefully pushed himself back to his feet, flawlessly walking backward to join the others.

 Jean couldn’t be sure if it was the bass or his heartbeat that throbbed through his body as he watched them finish what he could only call a burlesque dance, the lights dimming and the music switching once more before the dancers stepped off the side of the stage, something he had no idea how they managed in six inch heels, joining the crowd. Eren was quick to push through to find Levi, Reiner escorting Historia back to behind the bar, Mike had already been over with Nana, and well, Petra didn’t so much step off the stage as jump into Auruo’s arms, pressing her lips to his.

Much to his chagrin, Jean couldn’t quite peg where Armin had gone. Then again, he had remained in his seat. Not like he had much reason to go searching through the crowd, nice as that ass was, Jean just wasn’t a creeper.

“All alone, are we?”

Jean jumped at the smooth, undeniably male voice in his ear. He twisted in his chair, eyes slowly roaming over the body standing behind him until he met a pair of ocean blue eyes. Armin. The blond’s hand drifted over his shoulder, the smirk on his lips going straight to his core.

“I, uh, no,” Jean swallowed hard, kicking himself. “I mean yeah, I just came with the guys from the band… who have apparently disappeared to who knows where with their other halves.” He muttered to himself, not able to find the others. Well, really, of course Eren and Levi were probably in his dressing room. The others were more questionable.

Armin smiled, hand sliding down Jean’s arm to grab his fingertips, tugging them as he stepped backward. “Well good, that means I get more of you to myself.” He winked as he pulled him to his feet and dragged him into the crowd.

There was no hope to not rub against Armin, the people pushing them together, everyone touching everyone. Not that that seemed to matter, the blond pulling him close before turning around to grind against him, pushing his ass against what was becoming a very awkward, growing bulge. Of course that seemed to be exactly what Armin wanted, the way he pushed back against him, a hand holding Jean’s hip as he rolled his own, making sure to rub with as much friction as he could. The music pulsed through them, heat spreading through his skin, a chill on its heels as a familiar tingle spread through his body. Much more of this and Jean was going to need a release one way or another.

Jean couldn’t help growing brave, because damn if he wasn’t going to take an obviously welcome chance to touch the blond who was grinding against him. Dropping his head into the nape of Armin’s neck, buried in his hair, his lips brushed against the inked wings as he hands drifted over the sculpted muscled of his torso. Curious fingers ghosted lower, teasingly caressing his hips and sliding over the satin to the top of his thighs, thumbs brushing over the goods.

Armin tensed in his arms, turning on his heels to face him, fingers wrapping into the collar of his t-shirt. Jean paused, waiting for him to deck him for going too far. To his surprise, the blond pulled him close, grinding their clothed erections together and nipping at his earlobe.

“A _private_ dance will cost you~” His voice was husky, needy, lips brushing against Jean’s neck, making him shudder.

His breath seemed trapped in his lungs as his hands drifted down to squeeze his cheeks, voice low and in his ear just the same. “I’d pay anything to see this,” He ground against him, biting back his own moan, “in action.”

There was nothing but a blur of blond and then he felt himself moving, Armin’s fingers still gripped tight in his cotton shirt. He pulled him effortlessly through the crowd and past Moblit, who smiled and nodded knowingly, down a dark hallway to a bathroom in the back. Wasting no time, he shoved Jean into a stall, pressing his back against the door and mashing their lips together. The brunet couldn’t think, his mind reeling and lips moving on their own, welcoming the blond’s tongue into his mouth and relishing the way the other’s hands slid under his shirt and pressed over his abs.

Jean pulled back, hands firm on Armin’s shoulders, gold eyes darting between the blue. The blond’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion, shifting to surprise as Jean reversed their positions. He trapped the blond between the wall and his own body, lips moving from the other’s to his jaw and making their way down his neck. His lips moved slow, tongue slipping against the skin, savoring the taste, the salt of the sweat, the odd fruity tang of whatever was on his skin, and just… Armin.

He slipped down to the crook of his neck, scraping his teeth over the surface, feeling the blond shudder under the movement. Grinning, he sank his teeth into the skin, biting hard enough that he knew it’d leave a purpling bruise. Jean had expected him to pull back or bitch about leaving a mark; instead he found two hands firmly gripping his ass to pull their hips close, leaving him breathless as Armin moved to grind their clothed cocks together.

The brunet pulled back, holding Armin’s shoulders against the door as he slowly worked his way down his body, nipping and sucking at the skin, rolling his tongue over his nipple to elicit a delicious gasp from the blond. Jean grinned as he found himself face level with Armin’s crotch, pressing his face to his hips and running his tongue along his ‘v’, fingers slipping into the sides of his panties, tugging them down and eyeing the now-free erection appreciatively.

The blue eyes watched him with a mixture of feral lust and curiosity, Armin finding himself surprised at Jean’s initiative. He couldn’t deny he enjoyed the way the brunet forced himself into the position of power, the way he nipped at his skin and sent pleasure pulsing through with each bite, each touch. Just the memory of it, and seeing him kneeling in front of him like that, was enough to make the blond’s cock twitch.

Jean hesitated only for a moment, staring at it like it was some holy grail, the pink head of the cock peeking out of the skin. Gingerly he wrapped his fingers around it, slowly stroking it and watching the way Armin’s eyelids grew heavy. Fingers around the shaft, the brunet pushed the skin back over the head, fingers sliding up to carefully pull the skin out. Leaning close, he paused just as he lips brushed the head, looking up at Armin and finding nothing but lustful approval in those eyes.

Licking over his lips, Jean slid his tongue over the head and pushed the muscle between it and the foreskin. He twirled his tongue slowly around the head, curving around the rim, the underside running along the skin causing a sharp gasp from Armin, his hands immediately finding their way into the brunet hair.  He grinned as he retracted his tongue, taking the blond’s cock as far into his mouth as he could, finding it larger than he had first thought.

Pressing his tongue along the underside of the shaft, he moaned around it, the vibrations eliciting a muffled moan from the blond. He pulled back to look up at Armin, his cheeks flushed as he looked down at him. Jean didn’t look away as he rolled the flat of his tongue over the slit at the top before sliding it back under the skin, the pleasure it sparked through Armin almost palpable. Sliding the skin down with his lips and tongue, he took the head into his mouth, hands sliding up into the blond’s panties, fingers sliding closer to his entrance.

Jean let out a small gasp as delicate fingers gripped his hair and yanked back. Armin held him there, blue eyes smirking as Jean chewed on his saliva-coated lips, staring up at him with golden eyes. The blond leaned close, running his tongue over the other’s lips.

“My ass isn’t going to be the one getting filled tonight.”

Jean could feel his eyes widen a bit, his cheeks flushing with heat. Before he could protest, Armin captured his lips, sliding his tongue inside his mouth, the mixture of fruity alcohol, saliva, and precum abrasive, yet welcome, against their taste buds. Jean felt himself melting into the kiss, fingers in his belt loop pulling him to his feet. Armin turned them to press Jean’s back against the wall, keeping their hips close and their lips locked. Deft hands slid down his hips and back to Jean’s ass, kneading his cheeks and pausing to pull something from his back pocket.

“Prepared, were we?” Armin grinned, holding up a small packet of lube and a condom.

Jean blushed, an arrogant smirk coming over his lips. “Well, who doesn’t want to fuck the lead singer of the band?”

Armin grinned right back at him, leaning close and nipping at his lips. “Well let’s just see how good the ‘lead singer’s ass really is then.”

Deft hands undid Jean’s pants, pushing them down to the ground. The brunet pushed off one of his shoes, freeing one of his legs; he didn’t have time to do more than that before Armin was sliding his black boxer-briefs down and out of the way, Jean barely stepping out before the blond captured his lips once more, harshly. The kiss was short and hard, Armin pulling back and gripping the corner of the lube packet between his canines, easily tearing it open. He squeezed most of the packet onto his fingers, massaging it over them as he set it aside, eyes almost never leaving Jean. The brunet was nervous, but the way those blue eyes _devoured_ him, all he wanted at this point was to have him.

Armin leaned close, hands snaking around behind Jean, pressing his middle finger to the brunet’s twitching entrance. He nipped Jean’s ear, voice low. “Relax.” Not waiting to see if Jean would take his advice, he pushed his finger into his entrance, slowly sliding it in. His lips went to his salty neck, gently rolling his tongue over the surface, sliding his finger in and out as he relaxed around him. His other hand slid under Jean’s shirt, his lips working against the tender flesh of his neck as he slid a second finger into him.

Jean tensed again, body arching against Armin’s and a sharp gasp pushing from his lips as the blond scissored his fingers inside him. It wasn’t the oh-my-fuck-you’re-splitting-me-in-two pain that he had expected, and the way the blond pressed their bodies together, grinding the hot, tender flesh of their cocks together dulled the pain in ways he didn’t quite think possible. The alcohol in his system didn’t exactly do any harm, either.

Jean felt an odd sense of emptiness, openness, when Armin slid his fingers from his entrance. The smirk on that innocent face said everything. He was fucked. Literally. The blond was going to take him and chew him up and spit him out and leave him a drooling, deflowered mess. Not that Jean was a virgin, but well, his ass hadn’t exactly had dick exposure at this point.

His center of gravity shifted as Armin turned him, Jean’s palms pressed against the cold metal wall, fingers sliding up to grip the top edge. He kept his eyes on his feet, listening as Armin opened and put on the condom, grabbing the lube and pouring the rest over his latex-covered dick. Jean bit his lip as cold hands gripped his bare ass, suppressing a shudder as thumbs spread his entrance, which pulsed as the head of Armin’s cock pressed against it. He felt a warm body pressed against his back, lips nipping at his ear.

“When I’m done with you, you won’t even remember your name.”

Whatever smartass remark Jean had died on his lips, smothered by a strangled gasp as Armin entered him. Pain surged through him, and yet seemed to ebb as fast as it came as lips found their way to the back of his neck, hands sliding over his hips and between his thighs, brushing over his balls and sliding up over his cock. As feral as the blond may have been, he was still somehow tender. Yet, as soon as Jean felt himself relax, Armin pulled back, painted nails digging into his hips as he pushed back into him.

“A-ah~ F-fuck, Armin~” Jean’s voice came out breathless, his panting almost drowning his words. Armin didn’t even pause, lifting the other’s hips and thrusting into him, pushing in until their bodies pressed together. Jean’s fingers gripped the wall, standing on his toes and shifting his hips back to open himself up to the blond, who never seemed to stop moving.

He could feel him rubbing against his inner walls, pushing deeper than his fingers ever could. And… who the fuck was that? Moaning like a bitch, like they didn’t care who heard? It took a moment before Jean recognized the moans as his own. Before he could bite his lip or muffle his moans, a jolt of pleasure shot through him, a strangled, breathless thing of a moan pushing from his lips, his head lulling back against Armin’s shoulder.

“Oh? That was nice~ Looks like I found your sweet spot. Right,” He thrust again, slowly sliding in and out against that spot, eliciting a long, drawn out moaning-gasp from Jean. “There. Oh shit, Jean~” He repeated the movement, suckling along Jean’s neck as the brunet’s silent moan dangled on his lips, pulling a moan from Armin himself. “You get so tight~”

“Fuck, Armin~ D-don’t~” Jean couldn’t stop from lifting his hips, rutting back against him to meet every thrust, fingers desperately gripping the wall to hold himself up as his eyes clouded over with lust and pleasure. A small jolt shot through the brunet as he felt teeth nip at the back of his neck.

“Don’t what, Jean?” Armin’s voice was unsteady, breath heavy and panting, his words lengthened by moans of his own.

“Don’t – don’t stop – mn~ oh god Armin~ faster! Fuck me harder, Armin!” Despite the moans interrupting it, Jean was surprised he had managed to form any words. He felt like a puddle of sex, pleasure pooling through him and pulling his being to his core. His body was hot and his legs grew weak as Armin complied, pounding into him. Jean could feel the skin at his hips giving under the sharp grip of the blond’s nails, and yet it was all he could do to push back against him, to swallow every inch of his hard cock and milk it dry.

“Armin~ fuck, I’m,” Jean gripped the top of the wall until his knuckles were white and fingers stiff, a harsh moan pushing from his lips. “Fuck, Armin, there~ Armin! Armin fuck Arm-ah-ahh~” Jean’s voice echoed against the walls as his cock pulsed, hot cum splurting against the gray stall wall. His body grew weak, though his fingers refused to let go of the wall.

His entire body felt like mush, pleasure pulsing through as Armin leaned close, hips still moving and cock rubbing his insides, Jean’s ass sucking him in. “Came just from having my cock in your ass, huh, Jean? Aren’t you a filthy little whore~”

Before he could say anything back, Jean felt Armin thrust hard into him, thrusting faster as his teeth sank into the crook of his neck, muffled moans pushing against his skin, breath hot on his back as a lower, almost growl pushed from the blond’s chest. They stood there, connected, silent, Armin’s hands roving Jean’s exhausted body. Slowly he pulled out from him, an almost not-there gasp slipping from both their lips at the sensation.

It was then that Jean collapsed to the floor, lifting his arm to wipe the drool from his lips with the back of his wrist. He felt Armin crouch behind him, slipping something into his hand and turning his face to capture his lips once more, a smirk on his lips.

“This one’s on the house.” The blond said nothing more, nor did he wait for a response as he stepped around him and left the bathroom, tossing the aftermath of his fun in the trash. And then he was gone.

Jean pushed shakily to his feet, pulling his briefs and pants back up, slipping on his shoes and walking to the mirror. His vision drifted from his cloudy-eyed reflection to the napkin in his hands. It was the bar’s, the wings of freedom decorating it with the words _the Dancing Titan_ written over them. Unfolding it, he smiled at the number scribbled on the inside.

‘ _Maybe next time we can have dinner, too?’_

Jean could almost laugh if he wasn’t afraid it’d hurt, or make him collapse. He took a slow breath before noticing a shadow at the bathroom doorway, and it dawned on him that the bathroom shared a wall with Levi’s dressing room.

“Make sure you clean up your mess, horseface.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry its shitty i tried.


End file.
